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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22720270">Jimmy's Anti-Valentine's Day Spooktacular</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sierraadeux/pseuds/sierraadeux'>sierraadeux</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>But also, Costume Party, Halloween, M/M, Valentine's Day, Valoween if you will</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 15:46:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,756</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22720270</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sierraadeux/pseuds/sierraadeux</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil doesn't really want to be at a Valentine's Day party. He could be doing much better things on a Friday night back at home by himself - that is, until a sultry man in a cat costume grabs his attention at the bar.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dan Howell/Phil Lester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>97</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Jimmy's Anti-Valentine's Day Spooktacular</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this is really just my valentine's day love letter to jimmy<br/>the idea for this came from the fated himym slutty pumpkin storyline except more gay, more catboys, and less annoying ted mosby</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Mate, it’s not like you have a hot date planned, come on you love my parties!” Jimmy’s voice is especially nasal over the phone. </p>
<p>“Maybe ten years ago, James,” Phil pushes his foot against the floor to spin in his office chair, “besides you don’t know that. I coooould have plans.” </p>
<p>Jimmy’s laugh is loud and booming in Phil’s ear, he has to pull his phone away to avoid hearing damage. “Right…” </p>
<p>“I’ll think about it,” Phil rolls his eyes. He stops his chair from moving as he’s facing his computer again. </p>
<p>“I’m sending you the invite… now,” Phil’s email pings in another window almost instantaneously. “You would be making your favorite boy very happy if you came,” Jimmy sings in his ear. </p>
<p>Phil rolls his eyes, “I have to get back to work.” Phil hears Jimmy whine over the line. “Shh, I’ll think about it,” he repeats. </p>
<p>“Alright love, I’ll see you Friday!” </p>
<p>“JIM-” but Phil cuts himself off when he realizes Jimmy has promptly hung up on him. Phil shakes his head. He’s truly not sure how the two of them ever became friends. </p>
<p>Well, Phil guesses he <em> was </em> different when they met in University. Open and free in a way he hadn’t allowed himself to be before moving away from home, pulling all nighters and getting kicked out of bars with Jimmy and their close knit group of equally as wild and carefree friends. All of them have grown up now, adults with their adult jobs - and while Jimmy still held on to that wild side of himself, Phil has settled into his introverted, homebody comfort. Binge drinking, parties, and apps for the purpose of hooking up instead of dating weren’t Phil’s thing anymore. </p>
<p>So he’s hesitant to say yes and go to this party, even though Jimmy explained it was more of a chill friends and co-workers thing - nothing anywhere near their University parties that Phil can still smell the stale beer and vomit in his nose from cleaning up the day after. And Phil really didn’t have any plans… It would be a bit sad to stay home all alone… </p>
<p>Phil clicks over to his email with a sigh. </p>
<p>He’s not sure what he was expecting, but he’s chuckling to himself when he opens Jimmy’s email. The flyer he sent looks like Jimmy actually took his time in Photoshop making it - little angry looking cupids and broken heart clipart surround the page. Instead of the soft pink and red color palette Phil was expecting, it’s all a garish combination of orange, purple, and black. <b>Jimmy’s Anti-Valentine’s Spooktacular </b> is smack dab in the middle, in an oozing bloody red font - the only red on the whole flyer. Below it is the date, time, and location - as well as a bolder font that’s underlined and emphasized with multiple exclamation points: <span class="u"><b>NO COUPLES!! NO LOVE BULLSHIT!! COSTUME REQUIRED!!</b></span></p>
<p>Phil’s still not sure if he wants to go, but he also doesn’t feel like getting back to the editing he needs to do, so he opens a new tab to Amazon and peruses the Halloween costumes on Prime. </p>
<p>It’s when he scrolls back up to the white jumpsuit for the third time - thinking about how much he wants it, what he would look like in it - that Phil decides to go to Jimmy’s party. If nothing else, for the excuse to buy the jumpsuit and live out his NASA spaceman dreams. </p>
<p>He picks his phone up off his desk. </p>
<p><b>Phil: </b> <em> You win. </em></p>
<p>The response comes in no more than three seconds later. </p>
<p><b>Jimmy: </b> <em> YES mate!! xxxxxxx </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Phil feels <em> hot. </em>He knows he probably shouldn’t, from the picture on the packaging the space suit jumpsuit should be baggier, nerdy instead of sexy. But Phil reckons he should’ve sized up if he didn’t want the material to be clinging to his hips and ass. The sleeves come down all the way to his wrists and the bottom of the jumpsuit gathers at his ankles perfectly though, so maybe it’s more of a Phil’s hips and ass issue than a sizing issue. If it even is an issue at all, which Phil thinks it isn’t. </p>
<p>He checks himself out in the mirror one last time after pulling on his favorite black vans with the NASA patches on the sides. He thought it might be overkill, but it <em> is </em> a costume party, why not go all out? And besides, he looks back at the abandoned space helmet on his dresser, he’s already leaving a piece of the costume at home. The helmet is just a tad too snug on Phil’s head, and though it looks cool and really pulls the costume together, it completely squashed Phil’s quiff and the blue pane of clear plastic over the face fogged up after less than a minute of breathing in it. </p>
<p>His hair is getting too long again, flopping over instead of standing up in the perfect quiff he prefers, and the helmet squashing it only encouraged it to misbehave. Phil decides to ditch the helmet entirely as he spends an extra twenty minutes fixing his hair from the damage it caused.</p>
<p>Once his quiff is perfectly styled again, standing tall, albeit a bit messy, Phil has a very freeing naked pee - all while praying he doesn’t have to go again at the party, since it didn’t register to him until now that he would have to fully unzip the suit from the zip at the top and awkwardly hold the rest of the suit up while trying to pull his dick out. He also has another debate if he should take his glasses off and pop in contacts - he doesn’t - before finally leaving his flat. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The decision to leave his house on Valentine’s Day is less and less appealing as Phil makes his way across London. He almost forgets what day it is, forgets how <em> weird </em> it is for him to be fully in a costume, but everywhere he looks he’s reminded. Lovers with their arms around each other on the tube, holding hands as they walk down the streets - Phil dodges four separate couples who refuse to unlink their hands to let him by. As he approaches Jimmy’s building, he vows to get a car home, he really doesn’t need to see the city at the <em> end </em>of the night, especially going home alone in a space suit. </p>
<p>Phil lets himself in with Jimmy’s building code, and makes the treacherous journey up way too many stairs to get up to the roof. He’s regretting his decision even more as he ascends, with every step Phil’s lungs burn more and more and the music from above gets louder and louder. </p>
<p>“PHIL! What a lad, you made it!” Phil’s greeted after stepping through the door with a clap between his shoulder blades and Jimmy shoving a beer into his hand. The bottle feels light, Phil rolls his eyes. </p>
<p>“Jim, I don’t want your half empty beer.” </p>
<p>“This is a party, Philly, it’s half full!” Jimmy squeezes around Phil’s shoulder before taking the beer back from Phil. They share a look before Jimmy necks it, Phil notes how much paler Jimmy’s face is as he tilts his head back, catching the light. His face and neck are covered in white face paint, under his cheeks and eyes is a smudged grey, with splotches of red all around. </p>
<p>“What are you?” Phil asks and Jimmy spins around, raking his hands down his, <em> quite uncovered, </em>body. He’s got some sort of romper getup on - all white with cut off shorts just above his knees, and only one strap over his right shoulder, his left bare. </p>
<p>“Zombie cupid, duh.” Jimmy steps up into Phil’s space and bops him in the nose with the heart shaped tip of the bow and arrow he’s got in his hand. Phil scrunches his nose. </p>
<p>“Aren’t you cold?” Phil laughs, gesturing towards Jimmy’s exposed left nipple. </p>
<p>“That’s what this is for,” Jimmy holds his drink up as he steps away. “Mingle Phil! Have fun, enjoy the free drinks!” he calls over his shoulder. Phil watches the little red wings attached to his back jiggle as he skips over to another group of people. </p>
<p>
  <em> Stupid cupid…  </em>
</p>
<p>No matter how annoying Phil’s best mate can be, Phil’s glad he’s never changed. Phil shakes his head to himself as he looks around the roof, locating the bar. He’s been up here a handful of times, for the occasional get together and party that Jimmy throws, but he’s never seen it done up like this. </p>
<p>Jimmy clearly went above and beyond in decorating. Phil’s smart enough to know that he definitely didn’t do it himself. The lights wrapped around the pergola that shades the roof during daylight hours are strobing orange and red, there’s a few fog machines set up in each corner, and there’s a mix of cutesy Valentine’s Day and gory Halloween decorations pinned up everywhere. </p>
<p>Phil gets himself a drink that isn’t Jimmy’s half finished beer, and leans against the bar, surveying the room in hopes that he can pick out at least one other person he knows here. He’s not sure how many of these people that are all packed in on the roof are Jimmy’s friends that Phil doesn’t know, Jimmy’s coworkers that Phil doesn’t know, and the very small pool of Jimmy’s friends that are also acquaintances of Phil. It’s a difficult task as everyone’s in costume, it’s dark, and most people are wearing masks. </p>
<p>Phil wonders why he let Jimmy talk him into coming as he watches a werewolf and a squid make out in the middle of the cleared out space that seems to be being used as a dance floor. He’s about to roll his eyes at the amount of <em> couples </em> that are visibly paired off, ignoring Jimmy’s “no couples” rule, but then he realizes that this is Jimmy and Jimmy’s friends - there’s a ninety nine percent chance that none of these people came here as couples. </p>
<p>Jimmy’s loud laugh from the other side of the roof validates that suspicion, Phil looking over to see him shooting his plush arrow at two girls - blonde in a big round pumpkin costume, redhead in a Harley Quinn getup - who both laugh, shrug, kiss, then throw the arrow back at Jimmy. </p>
<p>Even though he’s hosting an anti-Valentine’s Day party, Phil knows Jimmy is a big old softie for love. If you ask Jimmy, he’d disagree and say he’s just a proponent of sexual freedom and everyone hooking up - which is mostly a lie. He loves love, even if he’s been a bit salty about it lately. </p>
<p>Phil rolls his eyes at himself as he looks away, taking a long sip of his drink as he scans the room again. Coming to a party and he’s just going to stand by the bar, by himself, thinking about his best mate’s love woes? Sounds like Phil. </p>
<p>“Is that any good?” A deep voice pulls Phil out of his people watching. It takes him a second to realize the question was directed at him, he turns his head towards the voice and his mouth goes dry. </p>
<p>Leaning against the bar next to Phil is the physical embodiment of pure sex. And Phil isn’t even being dramatic. </p>
<p>The man beside him has his elbow on the bar, his chin resting in his palm, head cocked to the side as he looks Phil up and down. And even though Phil has to look down to meet his eyes, by the way he has a long leg stretched out, Phil is inclined to think this man could be as tall, if not <em> taller</em>, than him when standing up straight. </p>
<p>And god, Phil can’t stop looking at that long, <em> long </em> leg. Maybe his drink is too strong, maybe that’s why Phil lets his eyes drag up from the glossy black shoe, to the <em> tight </em> leather pants. It’s hard to pull his eyes away from thighs that look absolutely <em> delicious</em>, but he does, trailing up to a black shirt that’s equally as tight as the pants but it’s slightly sheer, with a pattern that resembles tiger stripes. Phil lingers as the fabric shimmers in the strobing lights overhead. </p>
<p>He keeps going, wanting to absolutely drink in the person in front of him. There’s a thin, tight, black cat collar snug around his neck, a little silver bell dangling off of it. It sparks something in Phil that he, let's be honest, already knew was there, and the sparks erupt into a full blazing fire as he settles his gaze on the other man’s face. </p>
<p>He’s wearing a delicate looking black mask that’s covering the top half of his face, it extends up past his forehead and points off into two fuzzy ears. Phil kind of wants to pet them. The ears almost get lost in the fluffy waves of deep brown curls atop his head, and Phil kind of wants to pet that as well. </p>
<p>His eyes are <em> dark</em>, accentuated by long lashes and a bit of black smudged around them. Phil knows he’s beet red, how can he not be, and for some reason he doesn’t even feel caught out or reprimanded as his eyes settle on the other man’s knowing smirk. His lips are an incredibly deep, glossy cherry red and Phil’s head is absolutely spinning. </p>
<p>The man tilts his head, gesturing to the bright cocktail Phil is now clutching much harder in his hand. “Is that a yes or a no?” He chuckles, his voice is so deep and sultry Phil can only describe it as a purr. </p>
<p>“Oh! Um yes, yeah,” Phil looks between his drink and the man next to him. “It’s really sweet, though,” he adds, the shake in his voice only due to how intimidated he felt next to this man - he’s far past feeling any type of shame or embarrassment about leaning towards drinks that were tooth rotting sweet.  </p>
<p>The man… the cat… the catman- <em> no, </em> that sounds weird. The catboy - <em> yes, better </em> - in front of him smiles, shiny red lips stretching across bright white teeth before pushing himself up off his hand and getting one of the bartender’s attention. </p>
<p>Phil’s right, as he fully extends, he’s about the same height as Phil. Maybe a bit taller. That, also, makes his head spin. </p>
<p>“I’ll have what he’s having,” Phil hears over the ring of his ears, then there’s a hand on his bicep. He looks over to see long, almond shaped nails that are painted a glossy black. They’re not as long as he’s seen some nails, but they poke out past his fingers in a smooth curved shape, and they press into Phil’s arm as the man squeezes. </p>
<p>“Would you like another?” he asks. </p>
<p>All Phil can feel is the press of those nails into his arm, and he knows he shouldn’t drink any more when he’s already entirely intoxicated by this man, but- “Y-yeah.” Phil’s voice absolutely betrays him, the whine in his throat he’s been desperately trying to keep in, seeps out as he answers. Catboy just smiles, turning his head back to the bartender, and removing his hand from Phil’s arm to hold two fingers up. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Phil can tell he isn’t drunk. Okay, well, he isn’t on the verge of the black out kind of party drunk that mostly everyone else on the roof is, the two drinks he’s had easing him up enough to stand close to the beautiful man next to him as they exchange heated looks and easy conversation. Phil doesn’t really learn anything about the man though - he doesn’t know if he’s a friend of Jimmy’s, a coworker, a friend of a friend, or even just a party crasher. He doesn’t know his name, or where he’s from, or anything that normal small talk would provide. </p>
<p>But he does know the Catboy next to him also loves to people watch, humming judgements of others’ costumes as they pass by, making up stories of their lives in hushed tones - that are probably not as hushed as they think they are - with Phil, and dropping the seductive tone to loudly cackle every time someone does something particularly embarrassing on the dance floor. Phil guesses it’s the alcohol that makes it so easy, to simply stand next to this man and banter back and forth, and feeling no need to fill any silence that does pass over them. He worried at first, that the other man would walk away and become bored with Phil, but by the time Phil’s finished his second drink, Catboy downing his third, he’s sure neither of them will be leaving the other’s side anytime soon. </p>
<p>The man drops his cup on the bar and steps up close to Phil, a hand wrapping around Phil’s neck as he leans closer to press his lips high up on Phil’s neck, behind his ear. “Dance with me,” he purrs into Phil’s ear before pulling back. He lets his hand fall in one smooth motion, trailing down Phil’s neck, to his shoulder, down his arm. He stops at his wrist, wrapping his hand around it and tugging. </p>
<p>Phil goes freely, his eyes might be wide, and he might be repeating <em> I can’t dance </em> over and over again in his head, but he thinks he would follow this Catboy anywhere. And that anywhere included the dance floor. </p>
<p>“I can’t dance,” Phil finally finds his voice, leaning into the man’s shoulder as he pulls him along. </p>
<p>“Everyone can dance.” </p>
<p>“Not me, I’ll step on your foot,” Phil squeaks as he’s dragged through warm bodies in all different types of costumes. </p>
<p>“I won’t let that happen,” he pulls them to a stop in the middle of the crowd of people dancing and wraps his arms around Phil’s neck, pulling them together. “Cat-like reflexes, you know?” he purrs into Phil’s ear. It sends a shiver down Phil’s spine, even though he feels like he’s on fire. They’re pressed chest to chest, almost head to toe as this beautiful stranger nips at Phil’s earlobe. </p>
<p>Phil realizes he’s been standing, swaying with the other man, with his arms awkwardly dangling at his sides, so he squeezes at the man’s waist and pulls them those few centimeters closer. The man hums and Phil can feel him wrapping his arms tighter around Phil’s neck. Their crotches are pressed together from such close contact, but Phil feels the first deliberate roll of the other man’s hips deep in his very soul. </p>
<p>Phil rolls his hips back, feeling the other man’s chest vibrate against his, letting him know that he <em> absolutely </em>is into this. But there’s something he wants to know, so he pulls away, letting his hands run up the man’s hips to his sides, and then back down again. </p>
<p>The other man pulls away from where he was making permanent residence in the crook of Phil’s neck and meets Phil’s eyes. In this light, Phil can see just how warm and brown his eyes are, even if they are completely blown out. Phil’s sure his look much of the same. </p>
<p>“What’s your name, Catboy?” Phil cocks his head to the side as the man in front of him bites his lip. Phil watches as lipstick catches on his front teeth, but he’s swiping it away with his tongue before Phil can say anything. </p>
<p>“I like that. Catboy,” his eyes look darker, somehow, as he responds. “Call me Catboy.” </p>
<p>Phil opens his mouth to protest, “I-” but one of the Catboy’s hands is gone from his neck, a finger pressed against Phil’s mouth. </p>
<p>“No names, Spaceman.” </p>
<p>After a while of intense, heated eye contact, Phil puckers his lips and pushes them against Catboy’s finger. The other man smiles, bright white teeth and even a dimple on show, and pulls his hand away. They cling back together, Phil wrapping his arms completely around the other’s waist. </p>
<p>They’re not doing much dancing, but Phil’s a bit too intoxicated to care. He plays with the sheer fabric that’s taught against this Catboy’s back, warm fingers against even warmer skin, as he gets little bites and kitten licks at his neck. For which he’s also, too intoxicated to care. It’s not like he even knows most of the people here, he’ll probably never see them again. And if there are a few of his and Jimmy’s mutual friends, well, they’ve all seen much worse from Phil in the past. </p>
<p>And besides, he’s having so much fun. Too much fun, honestly. He’s mostly just glad at how tightly they’re pressed together, he knows his jumpsuit is probably leaving nothing to the imagination at this point. </p>
<p>“Oh,” the other man pulls his mouth away from Phil’s neck, “I love this song.” </p>
<p>Phil chuckles, of course this man was plucked directly from his dreams. Catboy straightens up and leans his forehead against Phil’s. The soft lace of his mask tickles at Phil’s skin. </p>
<p>“I’m the one who got Jimmy into Muse,” Phil explains. </p>
<p>“Ah, you’re one of Jimmy’s friends.” </p>
<p>“Mm,” Phil hums, but he’s a bit distracted by the way the man’s eyes keep flicking from his own down to his lips. “Are y-” </p>
<p>“Can I kiss you?” Catboy cuts Phil off, licking his lips, and all Phil’s brain can provide is <em> yes, yes, yes</em>. But rational Phil, who’s still down there somewhere, is yelling that he’ll regret making out with this hot stranger in the very middle of a very crowded party. </p>
<p>Not that he’d regret the making out, not at all. It’s just all a bit too public for him, and as his brain gets more of a grasp on his rational side, he feels more and more <em> exposed </em> and out in the open. Of course he’s out. Hell, ninety percent of the people here are probably queer knowing the company Jimmy keeps, so it’s not that either - it’s more so the whole public displays of affection thing. </p>
<p>So Phil does the least rational, rational thing his brain can think of and releases his grip on the other’s waist to grab at his hand instead. </p>
<p>“C’mon,” he pulls them back through the crowd. </p>
<p>Catboy is awkwardly chuckling beside him as Phil tugs him towards the part of the roof that he hopes is still as secluded as it usually is. “Maybe pleather wasn’t the best idea,” his voice is less sultry, more warm as he laughs. Out of the corner of his eye Phil can see how he’s trying, and failing, at discreetly fixing himself in his sinfully tight pants. </p>
<p>Phil laughs as well, “I’m not even looking down, what I don’t know can’t hurt me.” Catboy barks out a laugh, but then he’s pushing Phil into the little secluded alcove by the roof door that Phil has brought them over to. </p>
<p>“Well I was definitely looking down, Spaceman,” the sultry voice is back, purring into Phil’s ear as he pushes Phil’s back into the wall. The whine that leaves Phil’s throat is completely involuntary. </p>
<p>“Can I kiss you now?” he breathes against Phil’s lips. </p>
<p>“Please,” Phil gets out, his voice nothing more than a low whine before soft cherry red lips are on his own. </p>
<p>He tastes like sweet alcohol, and smells like something that reminds Phil of vanilla buttercream this close up. Phil is absolutely dizzy with it. He hums into the kiss and even dares to bite at the other man’s lip when it quickly goes from tentative to heated. </p>
<p>Catboy’s got his paws in Phil’s hair, one behind his head, the other tugging at Phil’s quiff. Phil doesn’t even think about how messy it’s getting, not when there’s a beautiful man moaning into his mouth, humming <em> “touch me” </em> in a rare moment that their lips part. </p>
<p>Phil can’t say no to that. He brings a hand up and flicks at the bell against the Catboy’s neck before cupping his jaw in his palm, while his other hand drags down his side. Catboy absolutely <em> purrs </em> with the touch and leans into it, kissing Phil harder, and pushing them even closer together. The cold brick of the wall makes Phil shiver, but it’s ignored as he finds out how <em> soft </em>the material of the other’s faux leather pants are. He’s rewarded with a hard roll of the hips into his own as he squeezes at his soft thigh. </p>
<p>“Please,” he mumbles against Phil’s mouth. Phil doesn’t know what he’s pleading for, but he thinks in this state, he’d give this beautiful man anything. Phil runs his hand back up the soft pleather and receives a particularly loud groan as he lands on the man’s ass. He hums in question as the tips of his fingers brush against something even softer, and he feels the other man smirk against his mouth as he chases it and wraps his fingers around the fuzzy tail clipped to his back belt loop. </p>
<p>Even though Phil’s eyes are closed, he’s sure they’d be rolling to the back of his head as he slides his hand down the soft tail, petting it as the Catboy presses their hips together over and over again. Phil feels the other push his knee up against the side of Phil’s thigh, and in a cocktail and boys with soft cat ears and tails clouded mind, Phil makes the split second decision to drop the tail and grab at his thigh instead. He gently pushes at the other’s shoulder as he does the same with his thigh, until they’ve switched places and he’s got the Catboy pressed against the wall. </p>
<p>Catboy lifts his leg higher up in an attempt to hook it around Phil’s waist, letting Phil and the wall keep him upright. </p>
<p>“Put an arm around my neck,” Phil instructs as the other man is tugging at his hair to get access to his neck again. He receives curious eyes in response, but the hand playing with the short hair on the back of his head slides down to his neck, gripping at Phil’s shoulder. </p>
<p>When Phil grips at the thigh he’s got in his hand tighter and grabs his other one, he can tell the other man knows exactly what he’s doing. He pushes up in a cute little one footed hop and Phil catches him, firmly holding both of his thighs as he wraps them tightly against Phil’s waist. </p>
<p>Phil’s not the most buff man, he’s really not buff at all, all clumsy long limbs that he doesn’t know what to do with half of the time - so he knows he can only pull this off without his arms snapping out of their sockets because of the wall behind the other man. He presses them close together, his arms stop shaking and he comfortably holds the Catboy up once he’s firmly pressed against the wall. </p>
<p>“You’re so fucking hot,” Catboy purrs as he tugs at Phil’s hair, making Phil cock his head to the side. They stand there, Phil holding the other man up against the wall as they stare into each other’s eyes, both seemingly trying to catch their breath. </p>
<p>The man in front of him bites his lip. Phil notices that his lips are a lot less red, lipstick slightly smudged at the corner of his mouth. His face is flushed pink, his eyes are wide and inviting, and the mask on his face is slightly crooked. He’s absolutely beautiful - so pretty and sexy, like he was ripped directly from Phil’s dreams. And Phil can’t quite understand how or why he’s wrapped around him like this. He can’t comprehend a world in which his karma is <em> this </em> good. </p>
<p>“You’re a dream,” Phil whispers before pressing their lips together again, the other man laughing against his lips before kissing back with vigor. </p>
<p>They kiss for a while, the party forgotten except for the music that drowns out their groans, whines, and whispers in the rare moments they part. The Catboy in Phil’s arms keeps his legs wrapped tightly around his waist, and Phil never wants to let him go. </p>
<p>Phil pulls away, taking the man’s bottom lip with him between his teeth. He lets it snap back, a grin spreading across the other man’s face. </p>
<p>Phil really wants to take him home. </p>
<p>“Do you wanna-” </p>
<p>“Woah, boys, don’t mind me,” Phil is interrupted by a man in an alarmingly sexy version of a Pennywise costume stumbling around the corner. He swiftly stumbles back out upon seeing Phil pressing the Catboy against the wall, but the man in Phil’s arms is dropping his legs, wiggling out of Phil’s hold. Phil lets him down easily, and gently, even though he wasn’t that far off the ground. And he makes the mistake of catching his eye, it’s hard to read the Catboy’s expression with a mask covering half his face, but he looks absolutely petrified. </p>
<p>“I have to,” he slides past Phil, and Phil turns to face him, “<em>Sorry</em>,” the other man reaches out, squeezing at Phil’s hand before letting go and stepping backward out of the hidden alcove. “I have to go,” he says in a small voice before turning, and quite literally bolting around the corner.</p>
<p>Phil is stood there stunned, watching the fuzzy tail swish away before it disappears, “Wait! What’s your name?” he calls after him, finally finding his feet can move and running after him. But it’s too late. Before he even makes it around the corner, he hears the slam of the roof door over the music of the party. </p>
<p>Phil didn’t want to see this beautiful man disappear from his life, fall right through his fingers, but he never would be the kind of guy to chase a stranger if they wanted to leave or get away - even if that man seemed like the opposite of a stranger. Which is a funny thought to think considering he barely knows what his face looks like and he doesn’t even know his name. </p>
<p>“Fuck.” Phil lets himself slide down the wall, no cares for the party around him as he knocks his head against the brick, looking up at the sky above. </p>
<p>Just a spaceman looking for stars drowned out by the lights of London. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>By the time Phil is stumbling out of his cab and up the stairs to his flat, he’s convinced himself that he dreamed the Catboy up - he’s simply a figment of Phil’s imagination. It makes him feel a bit better, thinking that, until he flicks on the light in his bathroom and sees his reflection in the mirror. </p>
<p>His quiff is, expectedly, completely flat and messy - he really needs a haircut. But that isn’t what pulls Phil back into reality, reminding him that the Catboy of his dreams was indeed real. </p>
<p>Phil’s mouth is stained cherry red, and when he cocks his head to the side there’s a trail of smudged marks in the same color all along his neck. </p>
<p>So that’s why the cabbie kept giving him those looks from the rearview mirror… </p>
<p> </p>
<p>No matter how hard he tries, Phil can’t get brown eyes, red lips, and cat ears out of his mind. </p>
<p>He at least waits a full day before calling Jimmy - partly to avoid hungover Jimmy, but also to avoid seeming as desperate as he is. </p>
<p>“Phil! You slipped out on Friday, I didn’t get to kiss you goodbye!” Jimmy’s voice is in Phil’s ear after the second ring. </p>
<p>“Sorry,” Phil leans back in his chair, “I actually have an excuse this time though…” </p>
<p>Jimmy’s interrupting commentary is nothing short of lewd as Phil retells his night, spilling far more details than he probably should - but he knows if he leaves anything out Jimmy would somehow sense it and whine until Phil told all. </p>
<p>“So what I’m getting at, Jim, is <em> please </em>tell me you know who the curly brown haired boy dressed like a black cat is.” </p>
<p>Jimmy hums over the other line, and it sends fear down Phil’s spine. If there’s one party trick Jimmy has, it’s the ability to instantly put a face to a name - which comes in handy for a person with so many friends and acquaintances. So his pause raises concern. </p>
<p>Phil puts his phone on speaker and sets it on his desk as Jimmy’s belting out a particularly loud and long “<em>Uhm.” </em> He wipes his hands down his face out of frustration and <em> missed opportunities.  </em></p>
<p>“I don’t know Phil,” Jimmy finally says, “I know a lot of curly brown haired twi-” </p>
<p>“Jimmy.” </p>
<p>“What? Birds of a feather flock together, don’t they say?” </p>
<p>“So you don’t know who it was?” Phil asks, his voice sounds pathetically pained. “Like any idea if he’s from the station or if he’s a friend?” </p>
<p>“‘Fraid not, mate,” Jimmy sighs. “I barely remember that night, even if I did see him.” Phil groans and Jimmy has the decency not to laugh at him. “Listen, I can give you my RSVP list if you’re that desperate to comb through and see if he’s on Facebook. Otherwise you might be shit out of luck.” </p>
<p>Yes, <em> yes</em>, Phil is that desperate. </p>
<p>He has Jimmy send his list over right away, it's a disorganized mess of some full names, some first names and emails, and just some emails. But Phil is determined. Every time he closes his eyes he can feel those cherry red lips on his mouth, and it’s with that determination that he shuffles through Jimmy’s messy list. </p>
<p>Over the course of a week, he goes down the list - he doesn’t obsess over it, he swears. He simply crosses out a few more names in his free time throughout the day. Having breakfast with his laptop at the table - tapping names into Facebook as he crunches his cereal. Pausing his work when he feels like he’s stuck to switch a tab over to search a few more names. There’s even a few times he looks up names on his phone late at night in bed, when all he can think about is dimples and a fuzzy cat tail. </p>
<p>It’s all without luck. </p>
<p>Phil eventually makes it through the whole list - save a few emails that have no names attached to them - with no holy grail moment of pressing search and seeing those brown eyes looking back at him. </p>
<p>He can tell Jimmy feels bad about it. He knows Phil’s hung up on the mystery Catboy, but he offers little help beyond a tub of ice cream and a Chinese take-away brought to Phil’s flat, paired with a frown and a “<em>You know, he was probably just a party crasher. Mad lad.”  </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>On a random Wednesday afternoon, almost two weeks after Valentine’s Day, Phil’s phone lights up on his desk with a FaceTime call from Jimmy. It strikes him as odd, he can count the amount of times the two of them have FaceTimed over the past decade and a half on one hand, but he accepts anyways, holding his phone up in front of his face. </p>
<p>“You would <em> not </em>believe who just came up to me-” </p>
<p>“Hi Jimmy.” </p>
<p>Jimmy ignores Phil’s greeting, speaking right over him. “Phil, I’m such a bell-end, I forgot I brought flyers upstairs to Legal! That’s why he wasn’t on the list!” </p>
<p>It takes Phil a moment for his brain to work out what Jimmy’s talking about, but it’s a lightning quick moment, he still thinks of that beautiful Catboy every night. </p>
<p>“Phil look! Here!” Jimmy swivels in his chair to reveal another person standing to the side of him. He leans down to get into frame, Jimmy’s big head is taking up the majority of the screen, but Phil would recognize those lips anywhere. </p>
<p>“Hi Phil.” </p>
<p>“He just came down here, the mad lad! Asking me if I knew who was the tall fit guy, yeah Phil he said fit, in the spaceman costume! I feel like it’s Christmas!” Jimmy does a spin in his chair, the guy behind him moving back a pace with a concerned look on his face. So <em> definitely </em>not a friend or acquaintance of Jimmy’s. </p>
<p>Jimmy eventually stops his spinning, and the other man, Phil’s Catboy, leans back into frame. “I’m Dan. You know…” he makes two peace signs with his hands and holds them up inverted over his head to make cat ears. It’s fucking adorable. </p>
<p>“<em>Dan</em>,” Phil tests the name on his tongue as he tries to commit every pixelated facial feature, that’s now not covered by a mask, to memory. </p>
<p>Dan’s even more beautiful like this. He’s not all done up, but his lips are still impossibly pink, and a dimple dents into his cheek as he smiles. His hair is a bit more fluffy and wild, and Phil wants to run his hands through it. Phil can’t help but stare directly at his <em> perfect nose </em> - Phil has never thought someone’s nose was perfect before, but this one is - as Dan and Jimmy stare back at him. </p>
<p>“Can I,” Dan turns to Jimmy, gesturing to the phone in his hand. </p>
<p>“Yeah, yeah.”</p>
<p>Phil watches as the phone gets handed over, then only Dan’s face is filling the entire screen. </p>
<p>“No phone hanky-panky on my FaceTime!” Phil hears Jimmy’s voice clearly shouting, but getting quieter as Dan steps away. </p>
<p>“Can you tell him he’s a menace when you bring his phone back over?” Phil chuckles nervously. He hears a muffled voice over the line. </p>
<p>“Yeah, no need, he’s definitely eavesdropping,” Dan laughs. </p>
<p>“Menace!” Phil says a bit louder, he watches as Dan’s eyes light up as he giggles, another dimple poking into his other cheek. </p>
<p>“You’re so cute,” Phil says before his brain can stop him, “I’m so glad I didn’t imagine you.” </p>
<p>Dan frowns slightly, “I’m sorry. I wanted to apologize fo-” </p>
<p>Phil holds his other hand up, “You don’t have to apologize for anything.” </p>
<p>Dan bites his lip, it doesn’t seem like it’s a conscious decision as he leans closer to the phone, trying to search for something in Phil’s eyes through the few pixels they’re provided. He sighs. </p>
<p>“I do. I didn’t want to run out on you like that,” Dan says in a quieter voice, then it drops to a whisper. Phil has to hit his volume button to hear him. “I’m not out. Here,” Dan makes a small gesture to the office around him as he whispers, “or anywhere, really.” </p>
<p>
  <em> Oh.  </em>
</p>
<p>Phil goes to open his mouth, to apologize for being all over him, probably making him uncomfortable in a very public setting, but Dan holds a finger up before he can get a word out. Phil closes his mouth, yeah, he should probably let Dan talk. </p>
<p>“When Jimmy came up with those flyers, I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to be me, but not me,” Dan explains in a hushed voice. “Like Jimmy has this reputation, I knew it would be a safer space, and I knew I lay low enough around here that with the perfect costume, no one would guess it was me.” Dan chuckles, “I guess it worked a little too well considering you couldn’t find me.” </p>
<p>Phil quirks a brow and Dan laughs. “Yeah, he told me. I’m really surprised he didn’t know it was me. He’s actually hit on me before, in the break room when I first started here, but didn’t even recognize me when he greeted me at the door that night.” </p>
<p>There’s a muffled “<em>H</em><em>ey!” </em> and Jimmy shouting something along the lines of “<em>T</em><em>echnically I have dibs then” </em> and the two of them laugh. </p>
<p>Dan bites his lip when they catch their breath. </p>
<p>“I’m really sorry. I just got spooked when that guy walked into us,” Dan runs a hand through his curls as he sighs, “I regret running out on you, I <em> don’t </em>regret anything else.” He stares back at Phil through the phone, it’s intense, but open - truthful. </p>
<p>“I don’t regret any of it either.” Phil hums back, he’s not sure why he matches Dan’s nearly-silent tone, but he feels like he needs to. Like anything louder would break the tender moment. </p>
<p>“I have to go back upstairs,” Dan frowns, “but can I get your number from Jimmy when I hang up?” </p>
<p>Phil is honestly shocked that he feels like he needs to ask. </p>
<p>“Yes, Dan, please. And message me your number when you do, so I can call you and ask you out to dinner tonight.” </p>
<p>Dan smiles, it’s wide and it meets his eyes, crinkling the corners of them. He nods enthusiastically.</p>
<p>“I’ll text you soon, Spaceman.” </p>
<p>“Alright, Catboy.” </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>happy Valentine's Day!!!<br/>my other <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22659694">vday fic!</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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